


For Accepting Me

by PancakeBeast



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Fluff, Good Is Not Soft trope, Kadara, M/M, Mixed perspective, Relationship Talk, bisexual Reyes, conjecture on some of the questions canon doesn't answer, spoilers for the Kadara storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 18:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10622610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PancakeBeast/pseuds/PancakeBeast
Summary: Scott and Reyes have a conversation about their expectations.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Scott's appearance doesn't make a difference to this fic, but if you want to know what my Scott looks like, [here](http://wondermumbles.tumblr.com/tagged/custom-Ryder) he is.

There was something about sitting up high under Kadara's sky that brought both long intervals of comfortable silence and honest conversations.  Scott had led Reyes by the hand to a quieter corner of the port and then they climbed up to an outward-facing rooftop perch.  It was a windy spot, too windy to hear each other unless they spoke at point blank range.  The invention born of that necessity was a pleasant one: Scott slung an arm around Reyes's shoulders and tugged him close.  Reyes smiled, melting for the Pathfinder as easy as ever, turning to indulgently rest his forehead against Scott's temple.  Scott smiled as well, closing his eyes for a moment despite the vast and beautiful view in front of him.

Building the Collective hadn't been easy.  Running Kadara Port wasn't going to be easy.  From cryo to all this, it'd been no more than a year.  But right now Reyes found himself thinking more about what was on Scott's plate than what was on his own.  In an hour this man would be taking off to fight kett, or Roekaar, or whatever else Andromeda threw at him.  Probably all of the above.  Possibly all at once.  It didn't seem congruous that the Pathfinder would be sitting here holding _him_ like this.  His arm around Reyes felt almost protective, and that didn't make sense.  Well, okay, he had to admit it made a kind of sense: they made quite the power couple.  But he knew others didn't understand why Scott trusted him.  Not that he cared too much what "others" thought; it was what Scott thought that really mattered.  But he knew.  He'd caught looks from the Pathfinder's crew, looks that sized him up as if Scott was little brother to them all and he was the dodgy new boyfriend.  Which he was.  He still felt guilty about keeping the whole Charlatan thing secret from Scott for so long.  It had only been a few days, but it wasn't the literal timing that made his heart contrite, it was that he only let Scott know when the man had already gotten so involved—in both meanings of the word.

Scott's voice close to his ear arrested his line of thought.  The wind stole away some of the sensation of Scott's breath, but not all.  "So.  You're gonna be busy."  It couldn't be spoken softly, but it wasn't accusatory or begrudging, and that was just as good.  Not that Scott had seemed to begrudge anything Reyes did.  He had shrugged off the secrecy, and had even _congratulated_ him on the way he took Sloane out.  (It hadn't taken Reyes long to realize he shouldn't have been surprised by a sniper liking that move.)

"Very," Reyes replied with a wry lilt.  "Not _quite_ as busy as you though."

"Yeeeah, weee're not talking about that," Scott chuckled.  "Quick confession though?  I don't even know where I'm going to head the Tempest next."

"I had a feeling you weren't big on plans," Reyes grinned.

"You mean you see through the illusion of ordered chaos and see my 'pathfinding' for the chaotic chaos it really is?"  They shared a chuckle, then Scott spoke again.  "Anyway.  I wanted to...talk.  Check in.  Because people have seen you and me together, and they know the Charlatan and the Pathfinder are on _pretty good_ terms.  We have to be careful, don't we?"  It was more a casual statement than a rhetorical question.

It had occurred to Reyes.  The short-term matter of not letting out any definite signs that the Charlatan and the Pathfinder have a personal relationship, at least.  He hadn't thought longer-term about it yet.  Scott was right: that connection might weaken the secrecy of his identity eventually.  They'd have to—

There was a pang and a painful flutter in Reyes's heart at the realization that he might be _doing it again_.  Except no, it wasn't the same thing.  Right?  He had to ask.  Tension and apologetic uncertainty lined his voice: "Are you alright with that?  With the secrecy?"

Scott's reply was immediate and reassuring.  "Yeah!  Yeah I have no problem with that.  I don't wanna compromise your shadow-rulership thing but don't worry, I'm not gonna get all dramatic like 'aaah we can't be together, I trained for opsec but it's killing me that I can't tell everyone the Charlatan _isn't not_ my boyfriend!'"  He put on a slight falsetto for that impression and raised his free hand toward his brow to complete it.  "Nah," he continued, dropping the voice and his hand, "just let me know if we ever need to throw somebody off the scent somehow.  Hell, I'm just glad it's not the other way around.  It's a lot easier being able to say 'yeah, that handsome shady bastard Reyes Vidal is my boyfriend' and get to sit on roofs with you than having to say 'my boyfriend is the Charlatan' or 'I don't have anybody' and not getting to go out in public with you."

Reyes found himself smiling again.  "...By my count, you just called me your boyfriend three times."

Scott pulled back just a little to look at Reyes, also smiling again.  "Are you alright with that?"

"More than alright."  Reyes reclaimed the lost proximity to brush his lips against Scott's.  Scott repeated the deceptively chaste kiss.  They both sensed there were things yet unsaid.  Reyes ventured a question that he draped in humor: "Are you a one-in-every-port kind of man?"

"Nnh...I'll admit to Kirking around a little," Scott answered.  "But not anymore.  I...only want you, now."  His voice softened as he admitted _that_ , nearly falling below the whipping wind.  As a hasty afterthought he clarified, "I mean, no, I've flirted with a few people, had some action once since coming out of cryo, but nothing serious—no strings.  What about you?"

Reyes remembered, after an instant of mild surprise, that Scott had woken up less than a month ago.  It was weirdly comforting that the reason he was the Pathfinder's first serious entanglement in Andromeda had more to do with time and opportunity than anything intrinsic to himself.  That's what he assumed, anyway.  "How lucky for me," he admired.  "Well, you met Zia.  There have been others, but...nothing _serious_."

Scott hesitated.  Zia had died in a burst of shots from his pistol.  It had been quick and brutal, like all of Scott's kills.  Like his father's, too, from what he'd seen in that brief time they fought together on Habitat 7.   _He's like a machine,_ he remembered someone exclaiming about Alec Ryder back then.  It seemed like so long ago.  Scott fought like a machine now too.  Sniper rifle, SMG pistol, omni-blade, hundreds dead in less than a month.  "...How serious was she?"  The question came out a little subdued.

"It was a torrid affair, but it didn't really work.  It was short.  And it was...not like this."

To Reyes it was an unexpected change of subject when Scott apologetically observed, "I killed a lot of Collective people.  Out in the badlands."

Reyes sighed.  "Those are on me.  I left rules of engagement in the badlands up to the representatives, until now."  The Charlatan's representatives didn't like to be micromanaged.  Earning their respect had been tricky.  In the Collective, there had never been protection fees inflating bonuses, and keeping it that way now that they controlled the port was going to be an unpopular move, one he'd purchase with some of that respect he had earned before.

Scott wondered if that had been necessary.  He could tell that Reyes believed it was.  He couldn't imagine the complications of running a criminal organization—criminal by Milky Way standards, Initiative standards, and, until now, by virtue of opposing Sloane's regime.  The Collective _was_ law in Kadara Port now, but that didn't change morality.  Yet Scott didn't think morality was inflexible.  What Reyes had done had gotten them here, after all, and "here" was objectively better than the way things were under Sloane.  Because now the port was being run by somebody who actually spent time in the slums, and by an angaran.  Keema sitting on the throne was good for relations between all humans and all angarans, regardless of the details.  Thanks to Reyes, protection fees and banishment were history, the soup kitchen in the slums was free, and the jails were empty except for Kaetus.  Scott wouldn't shed any tears about Kaetus likely being killed once Reyes had all the info he could get from him.  Kaetus had a hell of a grudge against Scott for what happened to Sloane, and dealing with an enemy like that in the future wasn't something the Pathfinder was interested in leaving to chance.  He could so easily imagine Kaetus assembling a gang and attacking an outpost to get at him, if he was allowed to go free.  Abruptly emerging from his thoughts Scott replied, "Sorry, yeah, I get it.  Sort of.  I get that I don't get it—that I don't know how it all works and I'm better off sticking to my job than judging yours.  Kadara Port is in good hands now and that's all that matters.  I'll totally judge you if you bring back that protection fee bullshit though."

Reyes chuckled softly; Scott felt it in his shoulders rather than hearing it.  "By all means, judge my work.  We make a good team."  His voice was warm and Scott was warmed by the invitation.  He kept half-expecting to be mocked for his do-good MO and his Initiative ties, but Reyes defied that stereotype with his evidently genuine care for Kadara's wellbeing.  Likewise, Reyes knew better than to pigeonhole Scott.

More proof of the Pathfinder's capacity for pragmatism came with his response.  "Yeah, we do.  Still.  I know places like Omega always exist.  What we need is basically an Andromeda version of Omega that the Initiative and the angarans can work with peacefully.  Crack down too hard and the criminal element just migrates someplace else, and gets more extreme."

"You're a wise man.  And you're right.  We have a real opportunity here.  I'm glad you see it.  The problem is, I can't control everything that goes on in the Collective.  I would be lying if I said I could.  So, do let me know if you find anything amiss."

"You're the Mouth, I'm the Nose?"

The brink of a laugh lifted Reyes's tone.  "Something like that."

"Sounds good to me."


End file.
